Should I laugh, or should I cry?

THE END IS NIGH. SOUND THE ALARMS. THE APOCALYPSE HAS BEGUN.

In other words, someone other than Meg or Belle “took out the trash.”

I use the phrase loosely and have it in quotes because I’m not sure if what happened last night counts as taking out the trash in my book.

Ariel sent something to the group message sharing that she and Snow White took out the trash and recycling.

Miracles do happen, people.

Though I have a funny feeling it really meant Ariel took out the trash and Snow White watched. She must be a visual learner. Or lazy. Or both.

And because I have nothing better to occupy my time or thoughts with other than the state of cleanliness in our apartment (only slightly sarcastic here), I raced downstairs to see this wonder. Only to have my hopes dashed…

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Wait, what?

But, it’s…it’s still full? And there’s cardboard on the floor.

Poor Ariel. I don’t blame her for not knowing how the human world operates. She also mentioned that we have to separate our trash from the recycling because some trash was mixed in with the bottles, cans, etc…

*deep breath* We know. Because after Snow White filled the trash barrel, she switched over to the recycling barrel.

I immediately texted Belle saying, “You see this shit?”

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And then proceeded to rip up all the goddamn cardboard (an excellent stress reliever!) AND take out the full bag of trash.

This action made Belle, in her own words, LOVE AND HATE ME ALL AT ONCE.

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We are the trash queens. Long may we reign.

~ Meg

The Refrigerator Saga: No Food

We at the lovely and luxurious 94 Walker have now been without a working full-sized refrigerator for over a month (approximately 7 weeks now). We (as well as our downstairs neighbors for some reason…) received this text today.

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Contrary to our lease agreement, our landlord has been the point person for the repair work throughout this process. She has contacted the store/manufacturer and has reluctantly been the person at the apartment to greet the repairman at each visit (yes, there have been multiple). She’s kind of odd sometimes, but she’s overall awesome.

It all started back in July. It was one of those heat waves that suck the life out of you and make you feel like you’re stuck to yourself. Our fridge was packed full with miscellaneous perishable belongings, and it was in dire need of a purging/cleaning. Over the course of a few days, we started to notice food was going bad too early, milk was curdling, Snow White’s tofu was exploding etc.

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(the aforementioned tofu…also, yes-we-keep-wine-in-our-crisper-what-of-it?)

As the only adult in the apartment with any sort of handiwork/household knowledge (no offense meant to Meg —  I just simply grew up in an old home with quirks), I have become the point person for any technical/electric/plumbing failures.

Meg uses hairdryer while Merida’s AC is on …
*Belle shows roommates how to locate and use circuit breaker*

Toilet wont stop running…
*Belle tells roommates to jiggle the handle*

Refrigerator stops working…
*Belle gets out tool box and takes part of the fridge apart and determines which part is broken — only for the repairman to confirm this fact a week later*

….but I digress…

So, as the repair point person in the house, I contacted our landlord about the fridge. She contacted the repair company, and they set a day and time to come out to the apartment. As I said before, our landlord has been the one at the house to greet the repairman, because apparently no one is able to be home during the day (whether they are actually at work or not is truly debatable…can you sense my shock and disbelief?).

Each time repair work is done, a text goes out from our landlord (ironically to everyone except Snow White). Everyone chimes in saying they can’t be there, and she grudgingly rearranges her own schedule. This has happened at least three times over the last few weeks.

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Meg, Merida, Rapunzel, and I cleaned out the fridge in preparation for the handyman, then Meg, as a respectable, sanitary human being, decided that the fridge malfunction was the perfect opportunity for a deep clean.

(the top are before *obviously* and the bottom are after – she’s a sassy angel)

Anyway, after weeks of abusing our bank accounts from constant takeout, we finally put on our thinking caps and realized we had a dorm fridge sitting on right next to the full-sized one that I’ve been meaning to take away (my procrastination paid off for once). So now we have miscellaneous goods shoved in there short term, and a freezer packed full with things that normally shouldn’t be frozen (like beer).

There must be more than this provincial life!

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Hopefully this first-world torture will shortly come to an end…next week. Stay tuned.

xoxoBelle

Oh yeah? You wanna know what I think?!

Flashback to when we first moved in. Belle had not yet arrived so for the time being it was just myself, Snow White, and occasionally Merida.

One night I was in my room and just starting to put up decorations when Merida invited some of our mutual friends over. Since we didn’t have any living room furniture at the time hanging out in my room was the most logical option.

Things were going great. I multi-tasked while catching up with everyone and what their plans were for the summer.

Then Snow White decided to grace us with her presence.

“Knock knock,” she said as she walked in the room.

Um, okay.

Real talk. She obviously felt like she had the right to include herself with my friends and have access to my extra comfy seating. Whatever. Both Belle and I think it’s also because everyone (including her) quickly realized that I ended up drawing for and winning the best room (fair and square).

Kind of like when we all found out my room had access to an outdoor porch space, and Snow White brilliantly asked, “So, what are we gonna do about the porch?”

We, bitch?

It hasn’t been brought up since. Except for those rare occasions when a package is dropped off on the porch instead of front door for some odd reason.

But I digress.

After a little bit. it was starting to get late and I had work the next morning because I am an (almost) adult. And, like normal, considerate fucking people, Merida and our friends said good night and left.

Before this, Snow White had stepped out of the room.

Assuming that I was going to be alone, I started gathering my toiletries so I could shower and wind down for the night.

NOPE.

Apparently, Snow White had other plans.

Just as I was about to exit my room, shower caddy and towel in hand, she barges back in with a fresh cup of tea.

The fuck….

Maybe it was because she had no social graces. Maybe it was because she was clueless. Maybe it’s Maybelline. Who knows!

The point is, I was clearly not entertaining anymore and she had to leave.

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Trying to not be a total bitch, I tried to subtly clue her in that I was going to be retiring soon and she should leave.

“I think I’m going to take a shower…” I said. HINT HINT.

“Okay. I think I’m going to sit here,” she replied.

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Oh? Are you now? The sheer fucking nerve.

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Who did this bitch think she was?

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So what do I do because (at this point) I was too nice?

I LEAVE MY ROOM AND LET HER SIT IN THERE ON MY COMFY CHAIR. AHHHHH.

Luckily, her dad showed up soon after to drop off some things. During this time I discretely snuck out of the bathroom and firmly closed my door.

No more tea time for you, bitch.

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~ Meg

What’s the deal with Stonehenge?

Or rather, why the hell is my home named after a prehistoric pile of rocks?

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Answer: Music Majors.

Unbeknownst to me and Meg, the other princesses sat around imbibing one night, and decided that our apartment needed a name. Now, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the ritual of naming things of value — I name my cars, for instance, but don’t you think that should be a decision that  ALL the roommates would be involved with?

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Nope.

So, after this night of drunken laughter and debauchery, Meg and I are casually and indirectly informed of this preposterous christening of 94 Walker. Of course, having been left out of this decision, we are instantly defiant and repulsed (as a matter of principle, but also because “Stonehenge” is moronic). When we ask for an explanation through gritted teeth, we are answered with stifled laughter and choking replies of “there’s this song” and “you had to be there.”

See “this song” below:

Yeah. That song is why the ENTIRE music department now knows about our apartment. How music majors appreciate such idiocy is beyond me, but we are now the talk of a significantly large group of people (people who play ukuleles and sing in the living room at 2:30am). This dubbing of 94 Walker has also been a catalyst for incessant vomit-inducing snap chat stories citing the “Stonehenge Trio” (Snow White, Ariel, and Jasmine). More about that later.

Anyways, Ariel tried to create a colorful poster explaining the name – to hang on the wall upstairs (it would go very nicely with Snow White’s classy Mardi Gras beads hanging all over the the banister), but she left her work unattended for a number of weeks, so finally in a fit of pre-my-roommates-don’t-clean-rage-strike I destroyed it with great satisfaction. Do not tangle with me.

As one of our dear friends (we’ll call her Rapunzel) said last night, Meg is “passive aggressive” and Belle is “aggressive-aggressive.” Mess with the bull Belle and you’ll get the horns because….

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xoxoBelle

Tuesday, 2:30am

*Roommates come home from a night out and congregate in living room. The same living room that Belle and Meg’s individual bedrooms surround. Loud chatter and general rowdiness commences. At 2:30am. On a Tuesday.*

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This wouldn’t be an issue if Belle and I were on the other floor with our rooms separate from the common space….but that’s a tale for another time.

Belle ended up saying something to the effect of, “Guys, it’s 2am. I have to work in the morning. I’m sorry but you keep waking me up. Like it’s 2 in the morning.” Basically saying, “Really, now?”

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Ariel said she was sorry and they all wrapped up, turned off the lights and retired for the night shortly after.

It’s funny because Ariel had apologized to me earlier too when I inadvertently closed my door much louder than I intended (as if I were passive aggressively telling them to keep it down. Not this time). She’s a sweetheart and I felt bad. But then again it stopped the noise so…..?

I wonder what will happen the next time they decide to bring the party home.

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~ Meg